Atonement
by Andresome04
Summary: What if after the battle with Unicron, Optimus did not lose his memories? What if he lost something else, something that could shake both factions to their core and change the tides of the war itself, including a certain Decepticon Warlord.
1. Chapter 1

Grogginess was the first signal that his sensors had detected. It took him a moment to fully realize that he was lying on his front and had sustained some damage but it was nothing that he couldn't handle. His optics were beginning to online as well as the rest of the systems in his body. A quick internal check and his reading noted that everything seemed functional for the moment, be it a bit slow but gradually returning to optimum ratings.

Megatron placed his clawed servos firmly on the ground below him before pushing himself up and moving his legs so he was crouched on a knee. His vision swam for a moment and he was about to tip to one side before he quickly placed a servo on his faceplates, steadying himself before he fell over. Once he got his barrings, he removed his servo and observed his surroundings.

Darkness reigned in this greyish-metal domain. Grooves and carvings were seen all around as well as various tubing and energon lines that seemed hollow. The ceiling above seemed neverending and the walls were arched inwards as if trying to protect whatever was inside this region. It seemed that this area was vacant, not a single spec of life to be seen nor a single trail of energon. It didn't take long for his memories to return and for him to realize his current situation.

He was inside the empty husk of Unicron's spark chamber.

He remembered. The confrontation. The battle. The unexpected but beneficial truce with the Autobots. The final stand against Unicron with the Prime fighting alongside him. He remembered.

 _Speaking of the Prime..._

Scouring his surroundings again, his optics caught sight of smoke from a spot several distances away to his left. A prone body with familiar red and blue plating was prominent amongst the smoke and steam emanating from it, but those were the only features that he could see distinctly. The smoke proved to be an effective coat that obscured any significant details of the unconscious mech, but it did not matter. Megatron knew that mech even if he was covered completely in soot.

Smirking to himself, Megatron rose to his pedes to sneer at the fallen Prime. The mech in question had still not made any movement or sign of onlining.

"Teamwork." Megatron scoffed.

Releasing his large blade, he strode towards the fallen Prime, never taking his optics from the fallen mech. As he was honing in on his target he was already envisioning the final blow. The last strike that would finally put an end to his inexorable and longtime enemy- the bain of his existence and his cause. The opportunity was just within reach...

Then all of a sudden he heard a moan, but it was not created by the same deep, baritone voice of his old adversary. No. This was a soft, almost acute voice that carried a rich tune to it. He heard it again and this time he paused. This time the moan held a bit of a melodic tone to it, one that resonated with the warlord and brought back memories that he thought were forever locked away in his processor. Memories that brought an overwhelming feeling to his being, a sense of longing that he didn't realize still existed.

Despite his unsettled state, he saw movement from the previously stagnant form. It was then that he realized something was dreadfully amiss. First, the mech that was believed to be the Prime had a form that was significantly smaller than his previous warframe. Battle ready armor was replaced with smooth metal that contorted to elegant curves and soft lines that enhanced the protoform underneath. Tiny pedes and servos of a civilian mech replaced those of a larger warframe. Ultimately, this mech was not the same mech that he had been fighting for the past millennia. The mech that he fought with was a Prime; a battle-ready Prime that would stop at nothing to thwart his plans. This, this was not him.

Then as the smoke began to clear and the features became more prominent, Megatron suddenly had a clear view of the mech before him.

His processor halted...

And he stared with a mix of shock and disbelief.

 _It can't be..._

Opening his cerulean optics, the dazed mech examined his surroundings. It was dark, thus making it difficult to fully gather specific details. The fact that his processor was still reeling didn't help either. Trying to catch his barrings, the mech shifted to his knees, placed his fisted servos on them, and closed his optics for a moment. When the dizziness finally stopped, he opened them and looked up- only to see a familiar warlord standing in front of him.

Whirling his optics wide open, the mech flinched back before memories suddenly resurfaced in his processor. He quickly clamored to his pedes and step back in apparent surprise.

"Megatron!" He exclaimed.

Quickly scanning his surroundings once more, Optimus turned back to his nemesis.

"Did it work? Is Unicron finally defeated?"

The mech in question did not answer. He could not answer. He couldn't even fathom at the transformation that had transpired before him. Too lost in his own musings, he did not notice that the mech in front of him was slowly making his own realization.

It didn't occur to him at first, but Optimus perceived that something was wrong. Never had he seen his opponent in such a state before. The unriddled shock written all over his faceplates meant that something was horribly erring. He checked his surroundings again to see if he spotted something that he did not before, but nothing had changed. He turned back to his foe before he noticed something.

Optimus knew that compared to the Decepticon Lord, he was still comparably smaller than the warlord himself. Although their strengths are virtually the same, the warlord still had some advantages when it came to experience in combat, however that never stopped Optimus from putting up a good fight. Even now, despite these differences, they were each other's equals in power and ferocity. Currently, Optimus noticed that he no longer holds a similar standing as his nemesis. For one, he barely reached his chest plate, thus making the disparity in their heights much more jarring. When he replayed their current transaction, he realized that his voice was indeed different. It didn't have the same deep resonance as before. In fact, it was much softer and shriller.

He looked down at himself and gasped at what he saw. Small pedes and servos. A much leaner frame. No robust armor. No weaponry. This was not his frame. This was not Optimus Prime's frame. This was...

"No." He shook his helm in denial and started to invent heavily. "No. No. No. This...this can't be!"

Grasping his helm, Optimus backed away. A sense of panic overwhelmed him for a moment. Thoughts of denial and disbelief raced in his processor as he tried to regain control of his venting. He tried to rationalize for a moment. Perhaps this isn't real. Perhaps this is some kind of recharge flux. He is still unconscious. This...this can't be happening. This is a recharge flux, nothing more. He will wake up soon. Yes, that's it. This is not real. He is Optimus _Prime_. He will return to his original frame and everything will be well. This isn't his frame. He is not...

"Orion Pax."

Snapping his helm up to look at his nemesis in shock. His optics widened at the remark as the realization hit him full force. He was indeed no longer in the frame of a Prime. He was no longer the symbol of leadership, of guidance to his leading faction. No. He was now in the frame of a simple archivist. A frame not worthy of any title of leadership or battle prestige. He was _useless_. He...

The sound of walls breaking and the feeling of the ground shaking suddenly broke his train of thought, and he and the mech before him turned towards the ruckus. The wall behind suddenly collapsed, causing debris and smoke to arise from the ruins. Amongst the shadows, they saw a large frame with a spherical ram attached to one of his arms. The rising soot caused by the crash allowed for only the outline of the frame to be seen but the deep voice that called out was unmistakable.

"Optimus! Are you okay?!" Resonated the voice of Bulkhead.

He and the other two Autobots suddenly ran towards the pair only to stop at the sight in front of them. The large warframe of the Decepticon Lord was apparent but the small mech beside him was unfamiliar.

"Who's that?" questioned Arcee, her brow ridges narrowing suspiciously.

This seemed to snap Optimus from his panicked state and he took a moment to calm himself before he answered the femme.

"Arcee, it is me," he said but his response did not satisfy the group.

"Who are you, and how do you know my designation?" Her weapons were drawn and she made no attempt at lowering them for a second.

Exasperated, Optimus knew he only had one option left but he was worried about the reaction that will resonate with the group. Still, he grudgingly gave his response.

"It is I. Optimus."

As expected, the three bots flinched back in shock before glancing at each other to make sure the others had heard the same. They didn't know what to think. This mech claimed to be their leader, but he looked nothing like the Prime they all knew and respected. Yes, he might sport the same colors but the frame was different. The only evidence that supported the possibility that this was indeed their leader was the faceplate that the mech had. It was uncannily similar to the Prime's, though it held a sense of youthfulness that their leader lacked. The Autobots were in an impasse, not knowing what to do or what action to take next.

The next few moments were filled with silence until the sound of whirling wind and crackling electricity in the background broke them all from their musings. A groundbridge appeared behind the pair, roaring in all its glory and beckoning any who dare enter its turbulent depths.

Up until this moment, Megatron was deep in his surprise to realize that the enemy had arrived, that now was the time to depart or better yet finish off his enemy once and for all, but he could not. He was too lost in his shock over the fact that the Prime was no longer a Prime at all. He was now the data archivist from Iacon. The mech that had once fought by his side before the crippling betrayal of the council.  
This was not the way it was supposed to go at all. He was supposed to finish his opponent, the Prime. But to see the data archivist once again brought a halt to his sadistic plans. He should end him regardless. Cripple the Autobots where they could never recover, but...he couldn't. He couldn't end him, not like this at least. But to have the Autobots steal him away...that was simply not an outcome he was willing to accept.

Left with few options, he made an unconventional decision.

One he would later question his processor for even thinking of such an outrageous idea.

He grabbed the Optimus' arm before the mech even had time to react, pulling him to his side and jerking him towards the groundbridge. The mech gasped in surprise and stared in shock at the warlord for his actions but the Decepticon Lord paid him no heed. Turning back to the Autobots, Megatron unleashed several blasts that forced them to scatter and duck behind large debris for protection. Satisfied, Megatron looked back at his hostage and stared into his wide, horrified optics. Quickly jerking his helm away before he became lost in old emotions and memories resurfacing, he raced towards the groundbridge with all his might- and with the Prime in his grip.

Struggling, Optimus tried putting all the fight he could give, dragging his pedes and pulling back with all his force but it was simply futile. Megatron's iron grasp on his arm was too strong and his pedes could barely keep up with his pace without falling forwards. He looked back at his fallen Autobots and reached out to them with his only available arm in a silent plea for help.

He locked optics with the youngest member and the young mech's own optics widened when he saw the mech being dragged away by the enemy. He beeped loudly, calling out for his leader but he knew it was too late. Optimus was too far ahead. The Autobots would never reach him in time. In a last-ditch effort, Bumblebee reached out his own arm as if he could reach out and catch them before they got away.

The last thing he saw from his leader was the look of sadness that flashed in his optics, a look that struck Bumblebee's spark to the core. Then the groundbridge enclosed both the mech and the warlord behind them in a loud _whoosh._ Any traces of the groundbridge was the smoke that circled the spot where it had been seconds prior.

The Autobots were left in silence.


	2. Chapter 2

All he saw was light. A green flashing light that zipped and spun all around him. The feeling of a vortex, a strong vacuum sucking him in was overwhelming. He couldn't even recognize his own frame within the turbulence. All wind and matter seemed to push and prod into every seam and opening in his own frame. His optics rapidly trying to acquire some focus within this disorder but his efforts seemed futile for the blast was inexorable. Greens, blues, whites, yellows, all these colors seem to advance around him, blending into his own red and blue armor before dancing across it and behind him. It was frightening. It was too much. He was getting lost. The force was too much to fight back. He couldn't even move his pedes in front him; his only ambulatory method encumbered by the overwhelming force.

There was only one anchor that stabilized him, however, before he could become lost in the chaos and it was the force that held an iron grip on his arm. Sharp talons pulled him against the turmoil into a large chassis that temporarily blocked all the wind and energy, stabilizing him temporarily. He knew this force. He knew the contact that he often fantasized about in his recharge fluxes. This mech, this... His kidnapper. **  
**  
Suddenly the green radiance started to vanish and ominous grey seeped through. Soon metal became evident as the green energy from the groundbridge melted away. The wind's intensity decreased and soon Optimus' own optics were finally able to adjust to his surroundings as there was no longer any surrounding hinderance. Moving forms became more prominent as they reached the end of the terminal. Purple and grey metal filled his vision and the beeping of computers became apparent. Then with a final _whisk_ , the groundbridge closed behind them, leaving the pair in a dark room filled with functioning systems and large computer screens projecting data. A few vehicons were seen typing away, commanding the groundbridge to finally shut down and conserve energy. One mech, in particular, remained conspicuous from the rest as his frame and masked visor faced the newly arrived recipients. Soundwave's stone-faced mask bowed to his superior commander in the respect that was expected towards the Lord of the Decepticons. Afterward, Soundwave shifted his helm to the being he brought with him.

To the inattentive optic, it would seem that the communications officer simply had no reaction after laying optic on the mech brought by his lord. However, if observed closely, a miniscule jerk was the only indication of surprise that the silent mech revealed. This, added to the fact that the mech's visor remained locked on the captive indicated that the silent mech had some interest in the new arrival. As for the reasons, no one knew.

Megatron noticed the stillness from his third in command and knew immediately for the cause of it. Out of all cons aboard his ship, only Soundwave knew the identity of the mech held in his clutches. He was the only one who knew of Optimus' past identity and so he understood the silent mech's reaction.

 _ **'I will explain this later,'**_ he commed his subordinate.

Soundwave turned his helm to his leader and, after hesitating for a moment, nodded. Satisfied, Megatron directed his attention to his captive.

Optimus could only stare in shocked horror as he looked all around him. If the room itself did not give any indication that he was no longer with his Autobots, then certainly the crew was a big give away. Three or so vehicons completed their tasks and turned towards the direction of their lord, only to reel in shock at the company that their leader has brought. Small invents and murmurs were heard as several helms turned towards each other in confusion. Only one vehicon was brave enough to approach the question that was on all of their processors.

"Welcome aboard Lord Megatron. Your gracious return is surely welcomed." He quickly turned towards the red and blue mech. "Uh...who is that?"

Cruel reality washed over Optimus in one sudden swoop as the situation finally settled in. He was on the Nemesis, the ship that belonged to the opposing faction and commanded by his enemy. He sacrificed the power of the matrix in order to save planet earth from sure destruction and the price for such a goal-his very frame that allowed him to battle all opposing enemies was taken from him. Now, he had no weapons, no reinforcements, no aid. He was all alone amidst his mortal foes. Megatron took him away from his Autobots. He took him away from his friends, the humans that he was supposed to protect and whose planet he just saved. He took him away from his _family.  
_  
He suddenly did not want such contact from this mech. He did not want to be anywhere near this behemoth who took everything from him. Yanking harshly from the brace on his arm, Optimus tried freeing himself from his captor. However, when the grip did not yield, he tugged even harder and used his other arm to pull on the clawed servo gripping him. His efforts were in vain. In a last-ditch effort, Optimus bared his denta as he glared daggers at his captor.

"Release me!" He exclaimed

The owner of said servo merely ignored the warning and watched Optimus struggle for a few moments, observing him as he futilely fought for his freedom that was far beyond reach. Having enough of the pitiful display Megatron gripped his arm even more tightly, almost to the point of denting, before turning back towards his crew.

"Report to the bridge immediately. Send a message to all Decepticons that their leader has returned and to do the same as well." Turning back, he looked at the mech in his hold. "I will be informing everyone of the outcome for today's events as well as a few...revelations."

Not questioning their lord, the vehicons wordlessly obeyed the command, leaving only the two mechs in the control room. Soundwave studied the pair for a moment before he too silently followed orders.

Knowing too well of what this isolation meant, Optimus continued his struggles despite his better judgment and common sense that there was no way he was escaping. This frame, _his past frame,_ was just too weak. It was not designed for combat nor did have any protective armor or weapons, thus the grip on his arm started to cause serious dents in his plating almost to the point of crushing. Physically speaking he was defenseless. However, what he lacked in frame he more than made up for in processor. Luckily, the energy drainage from the matrix did not erase his memories as a prime, thus he still retained knowledge and experience that gave him the leverage that he needed.

Therefore, using an old technique that required for quick pinpointed pressure on specific joints that caused the wiring within the protoform to loosen considerably, the servo clutching his arm became lax. Taking the opportunity, Optimus yanked his arm free and took several pedesteps backwards, away from his captor. The increased distance allowed him to glower at the behemoth without putting much strain on his neck cables. Having enough of this treatment, he quickly raged his concerns at the mech in front of him.

"Why?!" He exclaimed vehemently. "Why have you brought me aboard your ship? We had agreed to depart after our confrontation with Unicron. Our brief alliance was never meant to exceed its expected expiration event. So why? _**Why**_ have you brought me here?!"

Optimus' vents quickly aerated as his body tried to maintain its own internal temperature for it had risen dramatically due to the stress and frustration he was manifesting. He was never one to truly lose reign over his emotions-being a symbol representing authority and leadership never allowed such a thing- however, the entire ordeal has driven him at the edge of his patience. Outside of the comfort of his private quarters and away from the consolation of his comrades, Optimus felt even more vulnerable than he had ever been in the presence of this mech and this foreign ship.

Megatron, on the other hand, could only watch as the Prime-turned-archivist vented heavily a few feet away. It seemed almost surreal to see his nemesis, no longer in the shape of a warrior, but in the body of a civilian. The image was mindboggling, to say the least. To see the transition from the once stoic Prime to his once-lost beloved archivist had his spark fluctuate achingly in a longing he had previously ignored after all these millennia. A longing he could barely contain now that the mech he lost was before him once again. It took all his willpower to prevent himself from reaching out and caressing the faceplate that he dreamt about in his recharge fluxes. To see that smile and feel that joyful EM Field that warded the horrors of the world around them and soothed his own with the purity that the mech before him held. How such a thing was made possible he did not know. He wouldn't have believed the reality of it had he not just witnessed the transformation with his own optics-that, and the changing expressions dancing on the mech's face as Megatron continued to gaze at him in silent wonder and confusion. But one thing was made certain.

He was **not** going to allow Optimus to leave his ship. He was not going to allow the possibility for him to return to his Autobots and reverse this transformation. He had already lost him once- _his Orion_ -and he did not plan on losing him again. Not ever.

Optimus' wide optics searched for an answer within the warlord's neutral stare, waiting for him to respond to his demands, but the more he waited the more irritated he became. Having enough of the silence, Optimus' patience finally snapped.

 _"Answer me!"_

Crimson optics narrowed as a once cool faceplate transformed into a glowering one. Straightening himself, Megatron made sure Optimus was aware that _he_ had the advantage. _He_ was the one who had the upper hand and was willing to prove to Optimus that he was at _his_ mercy in a show of domination.

"Do tell Optimus, what exactly led you to that conclusion, that we would 'depart' as you put it to our separate ways?" He slowly made his way towards the disheveled mech. "If I recall correctly, our alliance was indeed to be broken the moment it was no longer mutually beneficial, but not once do I remember allowing you to escape freely."

He continued his advance, making sure he a made a show of his impressive mass in a display of intimidation. "I swore I would rule this world the way I see fit. Eliminating any and all who stand in my way, including you and your Autobots."  
Finally, he leaned over and leered at the smaller mech. "And now that I have you Optimus Prime, your precious Autobots are no longer a threat to my plans. For without their precious leader, they are nothing."

Gesturing to his frame with one of his servos, Megatron continued. "And in the state that you are now, without the power of a Prime, you are weak. Defenseless. You are my prisoner and at my mercy." He finished with a cruel smirk playing his scarred dermas, looming down at the mech before him.

As much as Optimus didn't wish it, he knew the facts behind Megatron's words to be true no matter how much they stung. It was true, in this state he is defenseless. Vulnerable to the whims of the Decepticon Warlord. However, he will not give this mech the satisfaction of seeing Optimus' resolve bend simply because of a few vicious words. No, he would show him just how wrong he truly was for assuming such a thing.

Leveling his own glare, Optimus straightened himself the best that he could no matter if it maid minimal difference in the disparity of their heights. He was determined to prove to Megatron that appearances hold no value here.

"Do not underestimate my faction Megatron. Even without my leadership, the Autobots are more than capable of holding their own against the Decepticons." He met the behemoth in front of him with his own step forward, not caring if he had to strain his neck cables to meet the crimson optics of the other. "Do not underestimate _me_ . I _am_ Optimus Prime. I may not have the frame bestowed to me by the matrix, but I can still hold my ground against you. Any threats you have mean little to me."

The roar of a fusion cannon powering up echoed throughout the room. A low growl from the larger mech was barely heard over the rumbling engines of the formidable weapon.

"Make no mistake Optimus," he spat his designation like a curse. "I am not ignorant of your true identity despite the character your current frame originated with." He sneered. "But that does not change the fact that you are my prisoner and thus I will use you in however way I see fit."

He began to move around the remodeled Prime, like a predator encircling its prey. "Every skill, every piece of knowledge that you possess will be exploited for the Decepticons. Willingly or not, you **will** serve for the advancement of my cause or you will suffer for your opposition." For emphasis, Megatron pointed the fusion cannon to his chest allowing the heat from the weapon to seep into the other mech's armor.

Optimus, however, was not phased in the least. "I will do no such thing. Torture me. Kill me. Do your worst, but I will not be a pawn for your twisted plans."

Megatron released another furious growl and raised his cannon, ready to blast a hole into one of Optimus' shoulder blades until an idea arises in his processor, forcing his arm to freeze mid-rise. He knew to harm Optimus was pointless. It was obvious physical harm would not sway the Prime for he was too strong-willed to bend to any pain; that, and it would ultimately be a waste of energy.

However, while harming the Prime was fruitless, threatening his Autobots or the pitiful organics was another matter entirely. He knew the Prime would rather take a thousand blows than allow any harm to befall his subordinates, a fact that Megatron could easily exploit. To achieve such a feat was another matter entirely, for the location of the Autobot base was still undiscovered. Simply threatening to shoot the nearest human city could be convincing enough, but again, the amount of resources wasted would be unlucrative.

As quick as a bolt of lightning, a sudden idea blossomed in his processor. One he almost completely dismissed, but after a brief mental debate, proved to be an idea that may bring the results he needed.

His attention refocused on the mech before him and a wicked smirk colored his scarred faceplates. A cruel chuckle escaped him.

"Indeed. As much as it amuses me to see you wither in agony by my hand, I have other methods of forcing you to cooperate." With that, Megatron once again seized one of the mech's arms before dragging him out of the room.

He'd later realize that it would be the second most unconventional decision he would make that entire cycle.

With the destination in mind, he ignored the Prime's pathetic fussing and simply led him down the halls of the nemesis towards the ship's hangar. It was no coincidence the room held a certain resident of his faction that very few dared to venture into. A product of lore and Shockwave's experimental science that had yet to prove its own worth amongst the Decepticons but Megatron was determined to test its value at this very moment.

Finally arriving at their destination, Megatron keyed open the doors before unceremoniously throwing the mech he held in his clutch into the hangar. Stumbling inside, Optimus was about to "throw" a sneering remark before his optics caught movement in front of him. He couldn't hold back the loud gasp that resonated throughout the room.

There curled near a corner lay the recharging form of a massive Predacon.

Optimus could only stare in shock as his processor tried to make sense of what his optics were seeing. _'It couldn't be?'_ He only read about Predacons in datapads as a young archivist. The information portraying them as mythical beasts that once prowled the land of Cybertron that went extinct long before the first mech walked the planet and whose remains were rare. But how could Megatron of all mechs possibly have such a creature ALIVE and in his ship of all things?

"Behold Optimus. Your optics do not deceive you. Before you is a successful experiment of medical science and Shockwave's cloning from the remains of ancient Predacons. An example of my new army of Decepticon soldiers underway prepared to fight all opposers to the Decepticon cause." The gloat was very much evident in his tone and if Megatron was purposefully aware of it, he did not show. "With programming and capabilities surpassing any regular mech, this Predacon can easily track and destroy anything I order."

He leaned down until he was level with the other mech's audio fins. "Even your Autobots."

With a quick swing of his arm, Megatron's fist collided against one of the walls causing a loud _BANG_ to echo throughout the room. It was enough to cause the only recharging inhabitant to awaken from its slumber.

An audible rumbling belonging to the beast quickly increased in volume as its systems quickly activated due to the sudden interruption. A hiss was soon to follow as the beast opened its optics, revealing glowing golden orbs which quickly turned towards the origin of the sudden disturbance. The Predacon only increased its ruckus as it rose to its claws before bellowing a loud roar towards the other two mechs.

Optimus couldn't help the full body shiver that traveled throughout his frame. By sheer instinct, he tried activating his weaponry systems only to painstakingly realize that he had none. When the creature in front of him began to crawl to his direction, he impulsively took a step a back only to stiffen as a clawed servo gripped the back of his helm while another gripped his hip, forcing him to face the approaching beast. All the while, Megatron spoke down to the level of his audio receptor.

"Imagine that beast setting loose upon your precious Autobots. They wouldn't stand a chance against its power. Hm, perhaps I could set it loose amongst the humans you so fiercely protect first. What a bloodbath that would be."

Optimus was not dense. He knew the game Megatron was playing at. Trying to bait him into submission by threatening those he held dear. It was a foul method to incapacitate him but no matter how much he tried to resist against the warlord, he couldn't break free from his restraints, both the physical and immaterial.

The Predacon continued its path towards the two mechs. It's growl growing more intense the closer it became. Optimus knew he was cornered with no possibility of escaping no matter how much it pained him to do so. The beast paused a few feet away just before raising its massive helm and opening its jaw, revealing rows of razor-sharp fangs. Its neck cables tensed, ready to strike down a moment later.

"Alright! I yield!"

The Predacon lunged. Optimus couldn't help but offline his optics.

"Predaking halt!"

The result was an immediate reaction. As if a switch had been pressed, the ancient predator snapped its jaws shut before reeling its massive head back, obeying the orders from its master.

Optimus onlined his optics to see the creature staring down at him, seemingly placated at the moment. He barely felt any sense of relief, however, for he knew the damage was done. Megatron had set his trap and now Optimus was caught. A long pause followed and Optimus knew what must be done but it didn't make it any easier doing so.

Steeling his resolve, Optimus couldn't help gritting his denta as he said his next words. "I'll do it," he said finally. "I'll do whatever you will have of me." He swallowed before continuing. "I will yield."

He could practically feel the smirk from the Warlord and it didn't make his decision any more bearable.

"I am glad we have come to an agreement." The grip on his helm vanished but the servo on his hip remained. "Come."

The subdued Prime was led outside the hangar of which he was momentarily relieved. The creature remained unmoving except for its golden optics that followed them out the room. He still felt its gaze even as the door shut behind them.

As Megatron led him down the halls of the ship, the Prime felt a rising tension and anxiety within him as they continued their treck. The dark grey walls and violet lighting gave the ship an ominous ambiance which only added to Optimus' growing unease. Where exactly Megatron was leading him, he did not know. The servo on his hip remained as it steered him on the direction the warlord wanted him to go.

After a few moments, Megatron finally spoke to him. "You will be put to work for the benefit of the Decepticon cause. You are my prisoner and you will do everything I command. Disobey my orders and many lives will be at your helm," Reinstating a fact that Optimus didn't need to hear again, but was sure it was Megatron's intention to remind him that he mustn't forget the metaphorical noose around his neck. It didn't improve his mood much either. Still, if he was to **work** for the Decepticons, then what did the warlord have in plan for him then?

"What exactly will you have me do then?" he asked curtly.

The uncertainty and ambiguity had him more on edge than anything. A sudden thought that perhaps he would be forced to give away sensitive information concerning his own faction emerged at the forefront of his processor, causing his spark to momentarily still.

"You will know in due time. For now," they both passed through another set of doors that led to a room that was even larger than the ship's hangar. Optimus, attention focused on Megatron's next words, didn't even realize where they were stepping into until his optics caught movement. He froze where he stood and he was once again filled with dread when he realized where exactly they had arrived.

The sight of Decepticon soldiers standing before them at the center of the main corridor struck Optimus cold in his tracks. Aware of the obvious danger, his first instinct was to find a means of escape only to be painfully aware once again of the position that he was in. He was a prisoner and he had never felt more like one than in that moment.

He heard rather than saw Megatron's huff of amusement before he strode forward, leaving Optimus where he stood. His gaze swiped to each of his soldiers before stopping a few feet in front of them, staring down expectantly. As one, all dropped to a knee and bowed their helms in a greeting worthy for their lord and master.

"Welcome back Lord Megatron." It was Knockout that spoke on the behalf of the Decepticons, a gruesome smirk played at his dermas as he raised his head to his leader. However, once his optics fell on the mech behind the warlord his expression changed to one of confusion.

"Uh, forgive me for asking my lord but, who's that?"

Megatron's chuckle reverberated in the room. "That Knockout is our bounty." The Warlord then turned to fully reveal Optimus to his soldiers. At the sudden exposure, Optimus couldn't help but clench his fists knowing just exactly Megatron was playing at.

His optics briefly flittered to the still kneeling Decepticons before he turned them towards their leader. He couldn't help but glare at the triumphant grin on the warlord's faceplates.

"Optimus Prime is our prisoner."


End file.
